Boundless
by That Invincible Summer
Summary: There is no escaping the binds of our very souls.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

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The well-worn canvas that constituted the walls of the tent did nothing to muffle the steady bass of the pounding drums outside and I could swear that the beats echoed in time with my heart –rapid and throbbing. I lay on my stomach, my torso bare from the waist up and completely exposed to the eyes of the three other occupants of the tent. My heart was in my throat and I had to force myself not to vomit from the nerves. To distract myself from the examining gazes burning into the skin of my back, I turned my focus to the revelry outside.

Long shadows of dancing silhouettes played along the sides of the tent, cast by the massive bonfire that was situated in the middle of the large clearing. I tapped my fingers and feet in time with the beat and closed my eyes; I could practically see the flames that reached so high, in a competition to tower with the trees.

It was the seventh day of the seventh month in the year, thus marking the first of the four-day celebration of Tanabata. According to tradition, all four tribes were to gather to commemorate the founding of the original tribe during Tanabata; it was a time most looked forward to and prepared for all year. Unfortunately, no sooner had my tribe arrived and begun greeting friends we hadn't seen in a year than I was pulled away to the confines of the tent.

With a grimace, I imagined members of all four tribes mingling about the clearing, sharing stories of the exotic places each visited and the people they met there, eating foods that were only cooked during the festival, and enjoying each other's company after being parted for so long.

Where was I during all this?

In an enclosed tent cut off from the revelry.

Practically naked.

And hating every minute of it. If I had been standing, my foot would have been stomped _at least_ three times since entering the tent.

"_Mana," _the familiar, gravely voice broke through my impatient thoughts. "_Please pay attention."_

_ "I am listening, Old Man," _I retorted huffily in our native tongue and shifted in a more comfortable position with my cheek against my forearms. In this position, I could just see the other occupants through my peripheral vision.

I could see Yasu shake her head at my rude response to the older man, the cerulean beads in her long red hair softly clinking as she did so. What the thirty-eight year old woman had deemed as my 'negative attitude' had always been a matter of contention between the two of us.

During one particular Tanabata, Yasu had called me out on my 'negativity' and ever since, I've made it a point to prove her right.

Hisao continued, blatantly ignoring the tension in the small space. "_The seal is still intact-"_

I snorted. _"Clearly." _I wasn't dead yet.

_"But it is weakening." _Yet. That shut me up. I'd had a feeling that the seal was loosing its hold, but having the Choro Oyadama confirm it suddenly made the fact I'd been trying to ignore very real.

_"Have you been using you chakra?"_ The normally lilting sounds of our language took on a harsh tone as the Oyadama of the Genbu clan cut in. I had to bite my tongue to keep from cursing at him. While I'm pretty sure Yasu was begrudgingly fond of me, Mamoru outright abhorred me; something about my superiority complex or whatever.

_"No, I haven't, Mamoru. Now, if you'd _kindly _stop speaking to me as if I were below you." _Asshole. Nothing pissed me off more than the others treating me as if I didn't know what I was doing. I may have been the youngest of the four leaders of the clans, but that didn't give them the right to treat as if I were a child. At least in my mind it didn't. _"In case you've forgotten, I am Oyadama of the Suzaku clan, just as you all are Oyadama's of your clans. We four are equal in stature."_

_ "But not equal in knowledge," _Mamoru grumbled.

Had I not been naked from the waist up, I would have punched him –elder or not.

_"Be quiet. Both of you," _it was Yasu who now spoke up. _"We are here to examine Mana's seal, not bicker. Save it for the final meeting."_ From the corner of my eye, I saw her glance through the gap in the tent flap. Vibrant colors whirred quickly past the tent in blurs of red, black, white, and blue. The four colors signified the clans of the Suzaku, Genbu, Byakko, and Seiryuu respectively.

_"You're just eager to-" _I began with a smirk, but was cut off by Hisao.

_"Mana, we are all eager to join the rest of the tribe, so if you would please keep your comments to a minimum, we will be done shortly." _My lips thinned; all four of us may be equal as Oyadama, but Hisao being the eldest, or Choro, Oyadama garnered the most respect. Seeing that I would be quiet, the Oyadama of the Byakko clan continued. _"You may not be using your chakra, dear Mana, but as water beats against stone, your poisonous chakra has worn away at the seal." _

I hated when the old man talked in metaphors. It only ever served to irritate my already perpetually sour mood.

As he communicated this, he traced his wrinkled finger gently over the raised pattern of the seal on my back and I tensed. I hoped he wouldn't press any harder lest he want to cause severe pain. One day, some children from my clan had been playing _chilo_ and accidently kicked the wicker ball into my back, triggering violent convulsions.

"_How long until it wears away completely?" _Yasu inquired respectfully.

I could see the Choro bring his hand from my back to thoughtfully fiddle with the beads that adorned his beard. I observed him while we awaited his answer. Hisao was wearing his ceremonial robes in honor of the festival. It was the purest white silk with a silver-gilded tiger depicted slipping gracefully through the brush. The thread was so fine that it was only visible when it caught the light, as it did at the moment with the firelight slanting into the tent. The spectral tiger woven into the Oyadama of the Byakko clan's robes had always enchanted me and served well in distracting me from the anxiety building in my chest.

Very suddenly, Hisao emerged from his rumination. _"Less than a year would be my best estimate." _

Yasu could not contain her small intake of breath and I could practically feel Mamoru glaring at the seal that had been tattooed between my shoulder blades. He may not like me, but the bonds of my people were strong.

I squeezed my eyes shut as if to force the telltale pinpricks away. A sense of dread filled my chest and I felt as if I may suffocate.

The obsidian beads that adorned his graying black hair clinked just as Yasu's sapphire ones had when he grunted forcefully in response. Even though the Oyadama of the Genbu clan was nearing seventy, he was a force to be reckoned with. A strong jaw locked in place and deep black eyes were in their perpetually narrowed state as he considered the older man's reply.

A year, most likely less.

"_The Genbu clan has kept vigilant during our travels through the nations. We have been looking for a shaman with similar abilities as the one who created the seal initially. Unfortunately our search has not led to fruition."_

I felt my lungs constrict.

_ "I would imagine not," _Yasu spoke up. _"Shamans of that nature have quickly died out since shinobi have become so skilled in the art of sealing." _

The chances of us finding a solution were slim.

I rotated my neck so that my chin rested on my forearms and squinted through the slightly parted flap. I knew the argument that was about to ensue. The Oyadama of the Seiryuu clan was more liberal in her beliefs, a testament to her young age while Mamoru was far more traditional. If I'd had my wits about me, I'd worry about the others noticing my reaction to their argument. I couldn't let them see how afraid I was because then I'd have to admit it to myself.

_"Do not start this again, Yasu," _Mamoru intoned darkly. _"You know the rules. They have not been broken for over a hundred years and we will not be the ones to do so now."_

A pounding behind my temples.

Yasu nearly growled and I snorted quietly at the hypocrisy. She tended to act rudely towards Mamoru and his conservative views. _"What would you have us do, then? She is only eighteen, for heavens sake!" _I felt the air around my exposed back move as the red-haired woman gesticulated wildly. She could be very animated when heated and this fact always fueled my teasing. It was fun to get her angry. Taking a deep, calming breath, she went on. _"The only option we may have is to involve shinobi."_

Minori wasn't ready to lead the clan.

_ "That is out of the question."_

My face screwed into one of panic.

"_It is out of the question to seek the help of the only ones who can?" _Yasu was outraged.

I put my hands on either side of my head; my body felt hot, but the vermillion beads were a cool contrast.

_"We will absolutely not resort to seeking the help of shinobi," _Mamoru practically spit out the last word.

I was on the edge of hyperventilating. Thankfully two of the three were too involved in their argument to notice.

"_She will die, Mamoru!" _

I stopped hearing after that. In fact, I couldn't hear anything at all; the drums, the laughter. All of it was replaced by a ringing; a ringing so loud I felt as if my eardrums would burst. The edges of my vision began to cloud. Any second and I would pass out.

I came very close, in fact, until a firm hand on my shoulder brought me back. Soft words were spoken. Hisao. He was urging me to breathe –to calm down.

"_Remember your roots, Mana."_

Focus Mana, I said to myself. Focus on something else. Anything else.

But my heart, it was beating so fast. As fast as the drums outside; my people were there, dancing just outside the tent. They were completely unaware of the weakness that was taking a hold of me.

I can't protect them. My body went rigid as I suppressed a violent shudder.

"_Calm, Mana. Stay calm. For them."_

The Suzaku. Hisao was talking about my clan; they needed me. I had to get myself together. As slowly as I could manage, I breathed deeply through my nose and then back out through my mouth. The air was painful to my deprived lungs.

Slowly, the ringing in my ears began to subside and I rapidly blinked away the dryness in my eyes. The Oyadama of the Genbu and Seiryuu clans were still at it; my panic attack had clearly not lasted as long as it had felt –probably a few moments at best.

"_We are Sanka. Our laws are in place for a reason, Yasu. You would do well to remember that. Nothing but tragedy has come from our tribe involving itself in the affairs of shinobi!"_

"_We are not getting involved in their _affairs._ We are seeking the help one of our own so desperately needs!"_

I rubbed at my temples, irritated that they were having this argument yet again.

It was Hisao who eased the tension in my head. _"The Kouyaku, my dear. You must never forget your oath."_

The Kouyaku. It was a promise the Oyadama made once taking up the responsibilities of the position as leader of their clan. Everything I did was for my people, and Hisao knew that. He knew they would keep me grounded.

I shall not take selfish actions, I recited to myself. For I am the Root. For I am the Stone. For I am the Stars of my people. I shall be their Strength and their Protector. When they look to me they shall see the steadiness of the Heavens in my being. It is for my people that I live and it is for my people that I shall die.

By the time I'd repeated the oath four times, Mamoru and Yasu's argument came to its close, but not because of an agreement. Hisao had interjected.

"_That is enough," _the two quieted. "_We will speak of this no more for tonight. We have three more days to make a decision and we will all four think long and hard about what is best for the tribe as a whole." _The Choro looked sternly at the other Oyadama, successfully cowing the red and black-haired chieftains. "_Our rules were indeed put into place for a reason, but we also have reason to alter them. I suggest coming to a conclusion at the end of the festivities."_

Mamoru pursed his lips and fiddled with the small gold bell that was attached to the dread at his temple. All four Oyadama had the dreadlock as an indication of their position in the clan, but Mamoru had the habit of playing with his when feeling browbeat.

The Oyadama of the Byakko clan went on. "_Does anyone else have anything to say?" _But he was looking pointedly at me.

"_Nothing." _I responded sourly. Yasu and Mamoru both shook their heads.

"_Very well,"_ the older man intoned in a grim voice. "_We will now join the rest of the tribe."_

It was quiet for a moment, nobody moved although we had been dismissed. No doubt thinking about the heavy conversation we'd all taken a part of. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore.

With haste, I sat up but was mindful of my bare torso and kept my back to the other three. I could almost feel them take one last look at what I'm sure was a grotesque sight on my back. Someone had once drawn a sketch of what the seal looked like for I couldn't see it in the position it was in; now that the cancerous chakra was once again spreading through my system, the highly complicated geometric pattern was undoubtedly mottled with a web of purple veins that protruded and throbbed. The entire tattoo was contained by a puckered circle of skin where the old shaman, Hotaru, had sealed away my chakra. The circle was actually a bit of the woman's chakra that acted as a barrier to the poisonous chakra that had polluted my system.

"So long as you do not use your chakra," the old woman had said to me in the common tongue of the nations, "the malignant chakra will not spread. However, should you reactivate your pathways the seal will disappear and the cancer of your chakra system will spread. Your death will be swift."

I quickly grew uncharacteristically self-conscious and hurriedly replaced my ceremonial robes, careful not to hit the throbbing veins on my back.

Squaring my shoulders, I faced the other Oyadama with a smirk plastered on my face. "_Well, I don't know about you, but all this doom and gloom has me in the mood for some dancing. We have been in this tent for far too long; we must rejoin our people." _With that said, I lithely hopped to my feet, ankle bracelets jingling together. The beat of the drum carried me from the tent to greet the people with whom I belong.

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**More to come!**


End file.
